


Binding

by Statementends (Blueberryshortcake)



Series: The Binding Series [3]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cousins AU, Gen, Gerard is doing his best, Happier in later chapters, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Kid Fic, M/M, parental neglect
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2019-05-22
Packaged: 2020-02-29 10:55:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18776848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blueberryshortcake/pseuds/Statementends
Summary: Gerard opens the door of Pinhole Books the summer after his acquittal. Standing in front of him is his younger cousin asking if he can stay with him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this story happens in a universe that is sort of a blend of By the Seashore and Broken Web.
> 
> By the Seashore involves Gerard on vacation with his little cousin Martin who he takes to the beach and helps him win the attentions of his crush, Jon. 
> 
> Broken Web takes place a few years later. Gerard saves Jon from A Guest for Mr. Spider and comforts him. He promises to remain Jon’s pen pal and tell him more about the supernatural. Jon and Gerry do not recognize each other from the events of By the Seashore
> 
> This story takes place when Jon and Martin are thirteen and Gerard is about twenty. The timeline is a bit shaken up since Mary doesn’t bind herself to the book until 2008 when Jon and Martin would be twenty-one. In this universe it happens earlier.

Gerard almost didn’t get the door.

It wasn’t like he got any customers for the dingy old bookstore by appointment or otherwise. When there was a ring it meant the paparazzi or some busy body wanting to see ‘where it happened.’ He wanted to sell it, but his mother wouldn’t let him. It was tempting to burn the place down when she was weakened.

After the mistrial he had tried for normal as he had done in the past. It hadn’t lasted long. Didn’t help that people recognised him. He considered cutting his hair short and bleaching it, but the thought of it made him wince. He’d rather be miserable as himself rather than miserable as someone else.

The buzzer rung again. He sighed, but decided to shoo off whoever it was bothering him. Last time he had left it someone had tried climbing through the window not knowing they were already nailed shut.

He opened the door. His scowl switched to confusion.

He had grown a lot. He would still be one of the tallest boys in his class, he already overtook Gerry. The chubbiness hadn’t faded any and the freckles had multiplied. He was big, and if it wasn’t for his babyface he might be mistake for a full grown man, as it was Gerard recognised him as his thirteen year old cousin, Martin Blackwood.

“Why…” The answer was probably Gerard’s luck honesty. It had been… a very bad year. Not that he disliked Martin, but…

Well, whatever this was it was going to complicate his already complicated life, he could feel it.

Martin was trying very hard to smile, but there was a watery look to him. Brittle. He opened his mouth to speak, but inhaled suddenly, as if realizing he couldn’t bring himself to start the sentence.

Gerard frowned. “Martin?”

“I--” Martin’s voice cracked. “Could I maybe stay with you for a little while? I… I don’t have anywhere to…” He crumpled and quickly wiped tears from his eyes.

Oh shit.

Gerard looked wildly around. He couldn’t bring him upstairs. He couldn’t slam the door and say no, which was tempting only because if Martin thought he would find safe shelter here, he was very much mistaken.

“I…” Gerard said slowly. “You… you know about the…” He gestured. Surely his Aunt had told him. Not that she had kept in touch for more than the occasional Christmas card, especially in the last few years, but she had been pretty clear about him staying the fuck away from her. She rung him up the night he got out of prison.

Martin nodded miserable and hesitant. “I don’t--they wouldn’t have let you go if you had done it.” He offered weakly.

Gerard shrugged. Honestly they would have jailed him. He knew he didn’t do it and knew there wasn’t much of a chance of convincing anyone otherwise unless he wanted to show them his mother’s ghost. Martin’s uncertainty did hurt a little though.

“You must be desperate then…” Gerard sighed. He still had Martin on the doorway. He quickly glanced around. No one seemed to be watching, but that didn’t mean someone with a camera wasn’t around the corner. He relented and pulled back.

“Close the door behind you and lock it,” He told Martin.

“Y-Yes of course, thank you Gerard.”

“Don’t thank me yet, we need to talk about this.” Gerard led him up the stairs. He felt the usual claustrophobia of all the books stacked around him. He lead Martin to his room. It was the only place free of clutter and the stench of paper and the crawl of silverfish. He sat on his chair at his desk and Martin sat on his bed. Martin looked amazed in the way someone is amazed by a house fire. There was no way he could let him live here even if his mother wasn’t literally haunting him.

“So.” Gerard said. No use beating around the bush. “What happened? Why are you here?”

Martin bowed his head. He played with the hem of his shirt. “Do I… do I have to say, Gerard? I… Mum kicked me out and I … there’s no one else…”

“She kicked you out?” Gerard asked. His Aunt had never struck him as a warm woman. He had only spent a long length of time with her once, a summer vacation in Bournesmouth. She didn’t seem to be a particularly tolerant woman, but Martin did his best to be obedient. Only a kid but he was well behaved… maybe… maybe too well behaved…

Martin was nodding still playing with his hem, not meeting Gerard’s eyes.

Gerard almost asked what he did, but caught himself. He doubted it had anything to do with what Martin had done and more to do with the fact that she was a terrible woman.

Must run in the esteemed Von Closen line.

“What happened,” he asked instead. “I won’t hold any of it against you.”

“I… you can’t know that you won’t.”

“Martin I was suspected of murdering my own mother,” Gerard said bluntly. Maybe to shock Martin out of it. “There’s not a whole lot worse than that.”

“You didn’t do it though.” Martin said, more certain this time.

Gerard sighed. “Right, but I’ve had a lot of people hold things against me, so I’m not inclined to do that… especially not to family.” Not that family inspired anything in him really, Martin was probably the only exception.

“I’m … I…” Martin took a deep breath. “I’m gay.”

“Right.” Gerard couldn’t be less surprised by the revelation considering he facilitated Martin getting to spend time with his first summer crush. He felt a weird sort of emptiness though. Mary Keay wasn’t a good mother, but he had a cold comfort certainty she would never abandon him.

There was a long pause. Gerard shrugged.

“I… already knew,” He said thinking it might put Martin more at ease. Martin looked terrified.

“You can tell?” He squeaked.

“Oh--no. I mean… you and your friend that you played with that summer. Jack? Josh? You were obviously smitten.”

Martin’s cheeks heated. “Oh…” He said softly. “I… I never thought of it like that… but… yeah…” He looked down. “I guess it’s weird to want to marry a boy you just met.”

“It’s not weird,” Gerard said. He felt tired all of the sudden. He can only imagine what Martin’s Mother said to him before throwing him out of the house. “It’s just… love.” he shrugged. He didn’t really have any sort of experience with that sort of thing, but he knew it was stupid for people to get offended over it.

Martin still had an ashamed look on his face.

Gerard wasn’t sure how to comfort him. He had embraced a very alternative lifestyle at the age of eleven. Was used to sneers and jeers and assumptions about his personal life. Had the shit kicked out of him a few times for it. He had never slept with anyone to make either side of the argument true, but he considered beautiful people beautiful, and the idea of masculinity incomplete and shortsighted. Gay probably wasn’t quite what he was, but he was certainly queer. It had just… it hadn’t mattered. It wasn’t a worry, it was just… part of him. Like liking oranges and getting sunburned easily.

But for Martin this was probably the most afraid he had been in his life.

“You’re fine,” Gerard said. “Hey.”

Martin looked up.

“You’re fine,” He repeated.

Tears spilled down Martin’s face.

“Th--Thank you. Gerard.”

Gerard got up and sat beside him on the bed. He squeezed his shoulder awkwardly. Martin instantly pressed in quietly shaking on his shoulder. He gave his back a few pats, but let him cry it out. It was uncomfortable. So uncomfortable, but the kid needed it, and Gerard was emotionally distant for his own sake, but he wasn’t emotionally dead.

His crying subsided eventually.

“Why don’t you rest in here for a bit, I’ll get us some food. That alright?”

Martin nodded. “Y-yes. You really don’t mind me staying?”

Gerard knew he should kick him out. Give him to child services and let the government sort him out because keeping him here was a bad idea.

Maybe he was lonely… or maybe it was because he wanted to believe family did matter in the good ways. Maybe it was just Martin’s lost look. Whatever it was he nodded.

“Long as you like,” He told him.

Gerard left the room and headed upstairs to his mother’s old office. He dug around and found a plain brown box, packing tape, and a sharpy, as well as enough stampage. He stared at the book he had avoided touching knowing she might pop out at any moment.

“Right.” He inhaled slowly. Slipped the book into the box and wrapped it. Carefully wrote out the address of the Magnus Institute.

If anyone could hold her it was them.

He went out and threw the book in the post, then grabbed some curry and headed back. He opened the door and stepped on the junkmail. There was a letter among it all in familiar and precise handwriting. He dipped and picked it up, slipping it in his pocket. He knocked on the door.

“Come in!” Martin said. His voice sounded a lot stronger.

“So, it’s actually good timing if you don’t mind the work,” Gerard said as if Martin was just here to visit him. “I need to pack up and sell this place.”

“You’re moving?”

“Yeah,” Gerard nodded. There was a strange lift inside him saying it out loud. “I mean… we are…”

Martin nodded eagerly. “Right. I can help!”

“We don’t have to start right now, eat your curry.”

“In here?”

“The place is a disaster,” Gerard said. “I’m almost tempted to burn it all and save some time.”

Martin laughed. The first time he heard since he got here. Small and a bit timid, but there all the same.

 

-

 

He gave Martin his bedroom and made do on an old couch in a room Gerard couldn’t have put a name to. It was full of books like the rest. So more of the store. He remembered the letter and pulled it out. Neatly written in Jon’s handwriting:

 

_Dear Gerry,_

_You haven’t written back since my last letter and I’ve lost patience with you which is why I’m writing now. If you’re trying to protect me, or think that I might think the worst of you for what I’ve read in the papers you’ll find yourself very much mistaken. All you’re doing is being stubborn and thickheaded._

_I know that you didn’t kill your mother, and if you did, you probably had a good reason for it and she probably wouldn’t have been considered anyone’s mother anymore, so you need to write me back, or I’ll break the promise we made and come straight to this address and make you talk to me._

Gerry snorted at that. He’d like to see Jon try. He hadn’t seen the weedy boy in years, but he had the feeling he hadn’t grown all that much.

_So. Write back to me. You said you would. I know whatever happened you did what you had to. And I’m sorry for your loss. I hope you’re okay._

_Sincerely,_

_Jonathan Sims, Bournemouth_

_PS. I think I’m right about the docks._

Gerard scowled at the post script. That little… he sighed. Two thirteen year old boys he had no business looking after. He shook his head.

The ending was nice. Through all of his bluster Jon was worried about him, but if he thought Gerard wouldn’t go down to Bornemouth and kick his arse for going anywhere near the docks after he had explicitly told him not to…

He got up and grabbed a pen and paper.

 

_Jon,_

 

_Do. Not. Go. To. The. Docks._

_I’ll look into it._

 

_-Gerard_

 

_P.S. I’m fine._

 

He stared at the letter. He should go into it a bit more, but he was too tired for it. He put it in an envelope and addressed it, planning to send it the next day. For now he’d sleep. Try to figure out what to do with Martin.


	2. 17/07/2000

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon records his investigations.

“17th July, 2000. Jonathan Sims. No word back from Gerry still. I’m sure now that he’s purposely ignoring my letters. I’ve been keeping a binder of mentions of him in the paper--none of it is particularly informative. Mostly it’s all opinion pieces that haven’t anything to them other than his favourite band and how it must mean he’s a cold blooded killer.” Jon paused. “It’s all rubbish of course. People assuming his guilt without any proof, and they don’t even know what’s out there really.” 

Papers shuffled around. Jon sighed to himself.

“I… I can’t do anything if he won’t write to me. It’s summer hols right now, I’m tempted to buy a bus ticket up to London, but then he might actually make good on his threat and cut of contact entirely… not that he hasn't already done that.” Jon grumbled. “I don’t know. It’s frustrating. He promised to help me learn about… about the things that are out there… and I have a big lead now.” His chair squeaked. “I’ve been… wandering again. It’s hard to sit at home and try to distract myself with imaginary stories where there’s… good people that win… and meaning in action. Life isn’t like that. It was never like that. I can’t… they’re not real stories. They’re just… they’re not  _ real. _ ” He huffed trying to express himself better. He gave up. “Gran doesn’t mind like she used to as long as I’m home by curfew. She’s not going to nail me into my bedroom.” He chuckled weakly. The threat had always bothered him deeply. 

“S-so I’ve been wandering the beaches. It’s… rather nostalgic. I used to like walking down near the water and reading in the summertime. I even made my first … I even made a friend there once. I had to stop though. More people around meant they noticed an unattended child.” There was a sound of fidgeting. “He only came the one summer anyway…” He added very quietly. “Well. Anyway. I’ve been wandering the beaches. The tourists tell interesting stories to one another. I think they feel more open being far from home. Not safer bodily… but… I guess safer from prying eyes? I don’t know.” Jon paused. “I’m not… I’m not an eavesdropper exactly. I mean… it’s… you just hear things when you walk along the shore.  _ Real  _ stories are more interesting to me now. 

So, I was walking as I usually did a few weeks ago. It was the weekend and I saw a man staring out at the ocean. He looked … scared.

‘Vince!’ A man called out to him. His brother I think. They looked like brothers. ‘Vince’ turned to him. He had wide eyes.

‘I can’t go back there. I quit.’ He got more and more anxious. His brother tried to calm him down. Told him they were here to relax and he didn’t work at Portsmouth anymore. Then Vince kept repeating: ‘They stuck me in a box. I was there for three days. They stuck me in a box and I couldn’t get out. Salesa and Lukas. They drugged me. They had to have drugged me.’ 

There was… he sounded so confused. His brother reassured him that he believed him… but he didn’t really sound like he did.

I wouldn’t put much stock into it usually. He sounded… well there was something wrong. His brother shuffled him off. The thing is, I’ve heard the name Lukas before. I didn’t remember at the time, but I looked through my notes. 21/02/2000. The fog at the docks when I saw that woman disappear. I’m sure she couldn't have got past me. Gerry said that I just lost sight of her. He’s always telling me I’m finding zebras when I look at horses, but I’m sure this time I’m right. The fog was … weird. I wasn’t in it, but the closer I got to it the colder it was. I decided to stay back and I waited. The fog eventually cleared and the woman was gone. The only way she could have passed me is if she had jumped in the water. I was listening. I would have heard a splash. Mid February isn’t the time for a casual jump in the ocean.

There was a man though. He had been sitting at the very end of the pier before the fog had rolled in. He stood, slowly walked down toward me. I felt… I… he was… he scared me.” Jon stopped, made a grumble of embarrassment. “There was something about him. He noticed me on the benches and gave me a wide smile that didn’t meet his eyes at all. I’ll have to find the tape, but he said something like: ‘All alone out here?’ He looked me up and down and approached. I was frozen. I couldn’t move. He reached towards me and… and  knocked a spider off my shoulder. Ugh.” It had been a big one too. “He looked privately amused. Then there was a shout. 

‘Lukas!’ 

His attention drew up over my shoulder. His face lost the pretend mirth. It went dour and cold. 

‘Hello, darling,’ He said, his words at odds with his face. 

The other man didn’t seem impressed with him at all. He was in a suit, and looked like a businessman with blonde hair and a banal expression. He didn’t seem very old. Maybe in his thirties, around Lukas’ age maybe. The blonde man tried to impress on Lukas things that made it sound like it was a business meeting about funding, but ‘Peter’ kept using ridiculous pet names the other man obviously didn’t appreciate. The other man was… he was off too, but maybe I only think that because of his being there at the time. He didn’t pay me any attention, and at first I was glad for him. He drew Lukas away. Lukas winked at me before moving off as if we shared some sort of secret.

I started moving away carefully. I tried keeping my eyes on them to make sure they weren’t going in the same direction. The other man caught me in his gaze. It was just for a moment, but it felt like an entire crowd of people were suddenly behind me. I turned sharply. No one there of course. I turned back, they continued walking away. I think I was just jumpy, and the other man noticing me had panicked me, but Lukas... There’s definitely something strange about him. 

I wrote Gerry, but didn’t go into much detail, just about the woman that disappeared in the fog. Lukas I … I just took as a creepy adult. That’s what I told myself. This was only a few weeks after Gerry’s initial arrest. He told me it was probably nothing, but I should stay away from the docks and seashore during foggy nights, and that I shouldn’t write him while he was in jail. He’s… he’s a good teacher. He looks at things rather scientifically. Encourages proof, not just ‘bad feelings,’ although he does say I should trust them too. 

But, after that the letters stopped. At first I thought it was because of the court case, but now I’m sure he’s avoiding me. I’ve sent him another letter, but I--” He tried hard not to let the hurt show. “I don’t think he’ll reply. I’ll have to look into Lukas myself. I used the library’s computer and I’ve found some businesses connected to a Nathaniel Lukas. He owns a shipping company: ‘Solus Shipping PLC.’ He might be related to Peter Lukas. I’m not sure. It is a common enough name.  If he is connected to a shipping company there might be something in Poole. It’s a bit far for a hunch though. I’ll have to keep digging. End recording.”


End file.
